October 29, 2009

Given that my visit focused on a small pocket of the far south end of the state, I suppose that this post should really be titled “In Which Knitterguy Sees a Small Slice of Vermont”, but I think that’s a bit lengthy.

This all began earlier in the year when I was thinking about things to do to celebrate my 50th birthday. I’m now not sure why I originally thought about visiting Vermont, or how I found the wonderful B&B I stayed at. In any case, this was a great trip for me, and one which I’d be happy to repeat.

So, let’s talk about the B&B, Frog Meadow. Simply put, it’s lovely, and I recommend it highly. When I booked my room, Dave and Scott sent very good directions for how to get there, for which I was very grateful –especially as the GPS tried to take me up a road that Scott later told me wouldn’t have been safe to travel on. Anyway, I traveled up this road (here’s a shot looking down it, and it's as straight as an arrow here)and got to this intersection. where I turned left and drove a short bit and saw the house and checked in.

Back to the intersection for a bit. This is the site of the original location of the town of Newfane. Dave explained that in the mid-1800’s, the village was disassembled and moved down the hill to its current location, where it serves as the county seat. Back up on the hill, the historical society posted some markers and a plaque in the 1970s, providing a general gist of the original village layout. (You can click on the sign to enlarge. I think it’s intriguing – though I don’t know why – that they’ve found and marked the location of the whipping post.) Frog Meadow is – I think – at approximately the location of the Phipps House, in lower left quadrant.

If you walk around the intersection, you can see the numbered markers corresponding to the info on the plaque.

Back to Frog Meadow. I took few pictures, because the B&B’s website has them and they accurately represent the grounds and rooms. (Ever had that experience when you make a decision to go somewhere and on arrival, find that the pictures in the brochure and what you’re actually seeing don’t exactly match up?) Dave and Scott opened their home as a B&B a couple of years ago when Dave’s job came to an end. He has also trained as a massage therapist, so in addition to providing lodging and weekend events, he has a studio on-site and can provide treatments.

The house is sited on a beautiful piece of property. This photo by me was taken looking up to the house. (Upper left window is the bedroom I was in.)

And here’s the view from the ground under the window.

There’s a small guest cabin near the stream that empties into the pond.

Also on the grounds are apple trees, and flower beds that I imagine are gorgeous when in bloom. (I was staying late in the season; the gardens were well over for the year. The colours in the deciduous trees were past prime.) I also really appreciated how quiet it was up there, and at night the stars were fully visible – no light pollution. Great place to stay, clean and tidy, and Scott and Dave are great hosts (Dave always helped me plan my route to where I was traveling), breakfasts were really good. (Dave understands how to cook scrambled eggs.) I slept like a log.

Dave gave me a very good massage: I could feel weeks of job stress falling off my upper back, and ended up with that nice zoned-out feeling that lasted for several days. I think it was the next day, late in the afternoon, that I was sitting on the side patio, thinking that I should be knitting something or reading something, and was instead quite content to smell the fallen leaves, listen to the birds, and watch the antics of the chipmunks racing across the patio and up and down trees, and to notice the changing colours in the landscape as the sun moved across the sky. It was really a great time…to just be in a lovely location, hosted by 2 handsome personable guys, and to not have to do anything other than show up for breakfast. (In retrospect, I should have flipped my trip and gone to Frog Meadow first, then Rhinebeck.)

Now if you go to the Frog Meadow website, you will see that this is really a great place for people who are physically active…you know, jocky, sporty types. Mountain bikers, cross country skiers, people who want to downhill ski at a nearby ski resort. I am none of those and I was somewhat concerned that I wouldn’t “fit”. Maybe things would be different if there were more guests (I was the only guest during my time there), but in all honesty I felt very comfortable, and I fully expect to return.

Thank you, Scott and Dave. You and your home touched me and influenced me in ways you wouldn’t imagine.

While in Vermont, I had the pleasure of a splendid visit with Jenny and Chris. Lots of conversation and ideas. Fabulous time.

Sadelle, Jenny and I met next day at Green Mountain Spinnery, which I’d wanted to visit for a couple of years. (Green Mountain makes a nice donation of yarn to the Men’s Spring Knitting Retreat.) Margaret kindly gave me a tour of the operations.

I think every knitter and spinner should visit a commercial mill to see how yarn is made; many mills will do tours provided you arrange a mutually convenient time. The operation is a worker-owned collective that sources raw fibers from within the USA (hence no silk in their yarns); there are appropriate patterns for their yarns, including the new book.

Well worth a visit; if you plan to be in there area, call ahead to enquire about a tour. Thank you to Margaret and Tedd for welcoming me and for the tour. I hope I didn’t ask any really dumb questions.

Sadelle, Jenny and I had lunch to the Front Porch Cafe in Putney.

I had a very good Rueben sandwich and when I went back the next day I had turkey with apple and brie on sourdough white, which was very good. Sadelle gave me a short lesson on supported spindle spinning. (You can download her tutorial on the subject from this post on her blog.) Sadelle used to make supported spindles; I was given one years ago, and Sadelle’s face simply lit up with a smile when she saw it.

We spun a bit. (That’s Jenny and Sadelle.)

I met Linda Diak of Grafton Fibers, who cards up batts of Corriedale fibers that are so beautiful you want to just put them in a bowl on the table and look at them. Grafton Fibers also makes excellent and beautiful wooden tools for knitters and spinners –superb knitting needles.

I’d prearranged the visit, as I wanted several batts and Linda kindly processed them while we chatted about life and the yarn biz. Thank you, Linda, for the generosity of your time. (Here’s Linda with Woody, who died the afternoon of my visit. Yes, she has a copy of this image.)

All good things come to an end. On Thursday I drove back through the mountains on Vermont Highway 9, across New York State and into Canada to stay over night with Alan and John.

Idle Musings and Random Thoughts From the Entire Trip

Maybe it’s just where I was in Vermont, but I saw no grey concrete buildings. No concrete office buildings, no concrete low level apartment buildings, no concrete government offices. No grey concrete buildings. I’m sure they must exist somewhere in Vermont, but I saw none, and it was refreshing to my eye.

Further, while in Vermont, I saw no big-box retail stores. Maybe it's just where I was in the state, but how refreshing to not see them.

I am truly blessed with wonderful friends. I have more friends in the USA than in Canada.

There is a saying that goes “I wish I could be the person my dog thinks I am.” My variation on that is “I wish I could see myself as my friends see me, because I think it would be through a more positive lens.”

Back in the Spring I saw some yarn and immediately thought it would be perfect to work Nancy Bush's Ene's Scarf from Interweave's "Scarf Style". When preparing for the trip, I pulled the yarn, debated whether to work Ene's Scarf,
thought about another design I'd like to work, couldn't decide, tossed
a coin, and cast on for the other project. I worked on it a bit while I
was away, and decided I didn't like it. So I ripped and cast on for Ene's Scarf, and have decided that my instinct was right about the yarn. I think it will make a splendid working of Ene's Scarf. The possible message here is that I need to be better about trusting myself about some things.

Although I hung out with friends who are knitters and spinners and I had plenty of time and opportunities to knit and spin, I actually did very little of either. I’m curious as to why that is, and wonder what it suggests about my relationship with the crafts.

I know a variety of people going through a lot of change right now. There's a saying that "a door opens when one closes." I think that might be true, but what I've been seeing is that sometimes you think the door is closed --and you're waiting for the other to open -- but you have to check whether the door is really closed. Sometimes it's slightly ajar.

And I'm back to the reality of life. Laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the bathroom...

October 26, 2009

Another NY Sheep and Wool is past. I’m sure there are plenty of reports about the crowds and the weather, so I’ll skip all that.

I left home on the Wednesday night and drove to stay overnight with Alan and John. Next day I crossed the border at Buffalo NY, and drove the across the state to Easton Mountain where I stayed for the weekend. I had my bran-spankin’-new GPS, and an 8 hour playlist on the iPod.

The GPS steered me off the interstate around Amsterdam NY and through some small towns, which was fine since I’d been seeing some dangerous driving on the interstate. That said, I was ready to be in the hot tub at Easton Mountain, and the trip seemed slow. It didn’t help much when I ended up in the school zone of a small town. I was driving up a fairly narrow street with 2 cars behind me and saw 9 school buses, each with lights and stop signs flashing, parked in front of the school on the other side of the intersection.

You can’t go past them; you have to wait. So I sat, and wondered how the GPS had managed to get me there. (Clearly there is a setting that has to be changed.) Then, in a perfectly choreographed gesture, the signs folded in and the lights turned off and the buses pulled out on their routes. Seriously; it was so amazingly well timed and sequenced that I wondered if there was a TV commercial being filmed.

With a few more twists and turns I arrived at Easton Mountain. John –who I met at the Spring Knitting Retreat– had driven in from Vermont, and after supper, Dave and Scott (who live at Easton Mountain) and John and I drove up to the coffee shop in Saratoga Springs for coffee and knitting. I don't have coffee. I get "Queen Mary" tea, and Dave doubles over in laughter when I order it. (Left to right: Dave, John, Scott.)

On Friday, Scott acted as tour guide and took John and me to the yarn shop in nearby Greenwich with a stop at the farm stand for cider donuts and apples. (I think we also stopped at the ice cream stand as well.) Jack rolled in about supper time. I knew Jack only from ravelry, and it was a delight to finally meet.

It was lovely up at Easton Mountain. The trees on the mountain were surprisingly green, but it was still unmistakeably autumn.

We attended Rhinebeck on both Saturday and Sunday. On Saturday, I managed to leave my wallet back at Easton Mountain. I’d repeatedly said I wasn’t going to buy anything, I was just going to see my friends and help other people shop. Thank you to whoever bought me lunch.

On Saturday, Joe chaired the info meeting for the Men’s Spring Knitting Retreat 2010; I waved at and shouted greetings with Chris at Briar Rose Fibers (her booth had been swarmed). I did the annual exchange of homemade preserves with Mel at David’s booth. I bumped into Beth, who had been called at the last minute to teach a spinning class and drove 11 hours to do so. A group of us went to the Olympia Diner in Kingston for supper on Saturday. (Let’s see, we had Mar and Jerry; Carol, Jim and Laura; Mark and J; and the 5 of us. Did I miss anyone?)

On Sunday we returned for some last minute shopping. Here’s the 4 bears, left to right: Scott, Jack, me and Dave. Thanks to John for the picture. (You will note that I had my wallet on Sunday.)

John and Jack left for their homes mid-Sunday afternoon. Dave, Scott and I went back to Easton Mountain, then up to the coffee shop for some late night knitting. Monday I headed over to Vermont. (Next post.)

October 23, 2009

I blew in from Rhinebeck and south Vermont this afternoon. I had a splendid time: beautiful scenery, great friends, wonderful conversations, relaxation. Like I wrote: splendid.

While in Vermont, though, I learned a few things. I share these with you, as the CAA /AAA guidebooks do not tell you these things.

Your GPS will likely not work with accuracy in the mountain country. I'm guessing that the satellites and the GPS unit can't always communicate due to the terrain. For parts of the trip, my GPS wasn't sure where I was and sometimes placed me on a road I wasn't actually traveling on.

There are an assortment of roads in the area where I was travelling that date from the 18th Century, and are listed in public records as "highways", but which are poorly maintained or abandoned. When a Local tells you not to travel on a certain road, it is wise to do as you are told. By the Local, not your GPS.

Should you prefer to believe your GPS and follow its instructions and take one of those abandoned or poorly maintained roads, you may find yourself with a fallen tree covering the road in front of you, and the road too narrow/winding/steep to turn around or back up.

If you attempt to use your cell phone to call for help, you may find there is no signal.

October 12, 2009

I'm dashing to get caught up and ready to head out in a couple of days to Rhinebeck, so this'll be choppy.

I had a few little purple plums remaining from the haul I brought back from my trip to see Alan and John, and decided that I wanted to try a recipe I'd read about in Richard Sax's Classic Home Desserts: a treasury of heirloom and contemporary recipes from around the world. The "All-Time-Best Summer Fruit Torte" originally appeared in The Elegant But Easy Cookbook by Marian Burros and Lois Levine, and Burros ran it annually for several years in her food column in whatever newspaper she wrote for. (I think it was the New York Times, but I'm likely wrong.) You can find the recipe here.

The torte is simplicity itself: a basic layer of cake on which you lay pieces of fruit, dust with sugar and spice, and bake. In baking, the cake batter rises and tucks in around the pieces of fruit, and really, it's a lot better than this picture would lead you to believe.

The simplicity, though, presents the challenge. Anytime you have a very simple list of ingredients, they have to be fresh and high quality, because their flavour is the flavour of the food. Stale butter -- and I said butter, not margarine -- and tired spices will give you a flat, tired-tasting cake. Flavourless fruit -- meh.

The recipe calls for little purple plums: Sax's cookbook presentation calls for peach slices with a scattering of blueberries, and he also recommends apple slices with fresh cranberries in winter. I think pear slices dusted with cardamom would be very good. (Note: Check Sax's version carefully. In my edition of the cookbook, the recipe calls for 1 tablespoon of baking powder. The online version, linked above, uses 1 teaspoon, and I think that's correct. I mean, it worked splendidly.)

Really; give this a try. It's great, still warm from the oven. Not so good, but still fine after it's cooled for several hours.

In Other News

While drawing up some new playlists for the iPod last night, I was hunting around iTunes and found a recording of oboe concerti by JSBach, performed by Marcel Ponseele backed up by Il Gardellino. (The CD link goes to Amazon.com: I don't know how to link to it in iTunes. Dear god, I am techno challenged...) Now the oboe concerti attributed to Bach are interesting, because while they are listed in the post mortem catalog of his ouvre, no autograph scores exist. Musicologists have "created" the concerti by reverse engineering other works by Bach, based on their understanding of his self-borrowing practices.

But what really caught my eye when scanning the track list, was the last track, an arrangement of Mahler's "Ich Bin Der Welt Abhanden Gekommen" -- one of the songs from his "Ruckert" cycle. I thought it wildly incongruous with the bulk of the tracks: Mahler composed the song at the turn of the 20th century; Bach was writing at the turn of the 18th century. The musical styles are, well, 2 centuries apart. The song setting we usually hear calls for a solo English Horn. The track information said it was arranged for Oboe da Caccia. I was intrigued, and downloaded the album.

The recording as a whole is lovely: the performances are bright and clear, and Ponseele is a gifted performer. It's a fine addition to your library. And the Mahler...wow. The arrangement works, totally, to my ears. (Well, the Mahler-ites won't like it, and I suppose that mezzo-sopranos won't be thrilled that the arrangement doesn't call for a human voice.)

But I realized I'd never heard a solo oboe da caccia. It has a completely different sound from the oboe and the English Horn, I expect because of the brass bell. I can't think of how to describe it: it doesn't even really sound like a double-reed instrument. Very haunting; very lovely.

There's another disc of baroque oboe concerti by Ponseele and Il Gardellino carrying superb presentations of 2 warhorses of the baroque oboe repetoire: the Handel g minor (the first movement shows Handel's brilliance for drama and lyrical writing) and the Marcello d minor. There are 2 charming concerti by Telemann: I'd not heard either. Also included are sinfonia from 3 canatas by JS Bach with solo oboe parts: these are virtuoso show pieces, and Ponseele gives achingly sensitive performances. Wonderful.

And the last track on this disc? An arrangement of Astor Piazzolla's tango "Oblivion". (Of course you know the piece. See this yootoob video.) It's lush and elegant; flows beautifully.

October 03, 2009

Recently I hopped in the car and fired down south to Jordan Ontario to spend the weekend with John and Alan, who've just opened a small handspinning supply shop. I'd like to say that I took oodles of pictures, but I didn't. So you won't see anything. Apologies.

Jordan is in the wedge of Ontario that is south of Lake Ontario and north of Lake Erie. It's about a half hour drive from the border with USA at Buffalo and Niagara Falls New York, in the middle of what was once fruit orchard country. There are still a few small orchards growing peaches, plums, pears, some apples and a variety of vegetables, but much of the land seems to be growing grapes...and the area is chock full of small wineries, most of which many Ontarians will never have heard of.

In Ontario, the overwhelming majority of liquor sales are done through a provincial business called the Liquor Control Board of Ontario (LCBO). Selling hard liquors and wines from around the world, LCBO stores are found in a huge number of Ontario cities and towns, and, if you want a bottle of booze or wine, it's likely where you're going to go. The problem is that a winery has to be able to guarantee a certain number of bottles to get shelf space in an LCBO store, and for small wineries this may not be possible. The LCBO may buy some stock from a small winery for distribution to a select group of stores, but it's by no means provincial distribution. Small wineries, then, are selling to restaurants, online/mail-order, and through the retail outlets on their own property. They likely have an on-site tasting room, and perhaps a small restaurant.

There: end of short lesson about Ontario.

Anyway, I wanted some time away from home, and Alan and John had graciously invited me to visit them in Jordan. I was interested to see how they'd set up the shop, as well as to pick up a few bottles of wine and some fruit.

The whole trip was very enjoyable, and I brought back peaches (fabulous baked in a cobbler), pears (fabulous when gently poached in a light sugar syrup and served with the syrup enriched with a drip or 2 of Cointreau), and little purple plums. (These are fabulous eating with a glass of port. Also good poached in a syrup enhanced with port. Or poach them in a little water, puree in the food processor, stir in a slug of ground cinnamon, and then serve warm with a dollop of unsweetened whipped cream. I tell you, the contrast between the warm spicy fruit and the cool bland cream is magic in your mouth.) The fruit stand I shopped at assured me that the fruit had been picked the previous day. While that may or may not be true, to my mouth, relatively freshly picked fruit that's had a few days on the tree to ripen tastes a lot better than the stuff from the grocery stores that was picked who-knows-when. Taste a tree-ripened peach and compare with what you get in the grocery store and you'll see what I mean.

I also came back with fiber. As I noted above, John and Alan have just opened The Fibre Garden -- and I mean just. I think they'd been open less than 10 days when I arrived. The website is still being set-up. (There's a ravelry group.) I came away with some California Red roving; North County Cheviot roving; bison/cashmere/silk roving, and; alpaca/kid mohair/merino roving. John and Alan want to offer some harder-to-find sheep breeds and interesting blends in addition to commercially available fibres carried by many shops.

The actual date is a national secret, and if I told anyone when it is, I would have to be killed. It was appropriately fêted by my coworkers and a handful of other people -- I've had 3 birthday dinners and have eaten far too much cake -- and I feel...well, 50 years old. I guess.